


All Possible Feelings

by GStK



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 16:21:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8063383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GStK/pseuds/GStK
Summary: There was a certain satisfaction in bitterness. I courted it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Second-person PoV. Post-graduation. Vague allusions to Compensation Festival.  
> Drabble more than 'fic.

‘You piece of shit,’ is what he says first.

Gritted teeth, shoulders squared, looking you in the eye with anger simmering. It’s more Koga than anything you’ve seen in weeks – not the cocky grin he wears on stage, the challenging glare he sends out from every poster. He’s still finding his bearings in the absence of you: he looks so silly in all his interviews, re-creating that washed-up hero from two years past.

No one ever told him that waves can undo his hard work in moments, seconds. But he’s started to feel the sand beneath his feet.

When you don’t answer, he swears: ‘What the fuck.’ He hauls himself to his feet and starts pacing restlessly, kicking your table to make more room. His eyes snap to you when you lean back on your hands; he takes a sudden step towards you, then two away, like he can’t bear the thought of being close.

But he can threaten.

‘I’m gonna punch you,’ he promises. ‘You fucked-up vampire. After all this time –‘ And he breaks off like he’s too frustrated to continue, but you know that’s not the case. He covers his mouth with the back of his palm and clenches his hand into a fist.

(And this is more Koga than anything you’ve seen in months. The tension beneath the anger, the uncertainty he guards like a wolf in his territory. His voice, usually the boom of so many fireworks, quiet and low and of strangled control.

Look at what you’ve done.)

‘Now, doggie,’ you placate, the words leaving you softly, ‘What happened to your promise? Once you won against me, you said you would call me “Sa—“’

‘Can it,’ he barks. That’s a little closer; that’s a little closer to the doggie you knew. His gaze bores down on you, but never through you. ‘This ‘n that are two different things, you hear me? In fact, fuck you. What the hell?’

Such is your _leitmotif_. Disbanding UNDEAD; torturing your pet; acting a lord of the night; breaking. _What the hell_ , Koga asks, each and every time. But he has never given up and walked away. _What the hell_ , Koga asks, and comes after you, even past graduation.

Except now. Maybe – you wonder – you smile in spite of yourself, and the look on his face grows colder. He’s stopped pacing and started staring. (You’ve done it now, haven’t you?) He repeats, quietly, ‘What the hell,’ and then asks, ‘Why?’

And you don’t know how to answer. You never do.

‘After all this time,’ he keeps saying, dropping his hand, ‘You think this’ll cut it? Me and Adonis have been working our asses off to chase after you guys, and you don’t – you don’t fucking call. You don’t show up. I have to see your stupid ass on TV all the time –‘

‘You watch my shows?’ you ask. The pleased little note that runs through you must show on your face, because he kicks your table again. The cups on top shudder and threaten to fall. You open your mouth to say something, something like _You need training, doggie_ –

But he interrupts you. In short order, his fierceness grows.

‘You seriously _think_ you can jump in and out of our lives!? I’ll catch you. I’ll kill you! Yeah, get ready, you stupid bat! Once this year is over, we’re comin’ for you! I’m gonna rip you apart, make you rue the day you ever fucked with me –‘

The sunset plays out in dark shadows across him. He psyches himself up and gets louder with every word. You think, in this moment, that he looks very lonely.

(Not alone. Not solitary. Just lonely.)

And then he looks afraid. He grows still, looks terribly in pain when you ask, ‘Another year of this? Can you do it?’

Is there even a need?

He doesn’t respond when you take his hand. But he slides down to his knees when you coax him to sit. What bounces off the walls, then, is silence. The look on the face he won’t show you is stricken.

‘I said it,’ you reflect, ‘Because you deserved to hear it. That’s all, Doggie.’ You tousle his hair.

‘… if you’re for real,’ he mutters morosely, ‘Then you should come visit us.’

‘I won’t.’

‘Then at least say _hi_ ,’ he growls. He clicks his tongue impatiently. ‘I know you’re there when Hakaze… _senpai_ … calls us. I can fucking hear you.’

‘I know,’ you reply.

So begets the quiet. Your hand remains in his hair. You do not look away. You can feel the confusion-frustration-anguish rolling off him in waves.

And eventually – ‘Sakuma-senpai,’ he whispers, finding your eyes. ‘Say it again.’

And you tell him, ‘No.’

He’s so lost. So angry. Not even the motions of your hand can calm him – not that they ever did.

Your apartment in the city is tiny, but it feels massive with your knees pressed together. He looks at you and you realise you are his world, even now, even as you were then.

He’s the stupidest boy you’ve ever met.

‘I won’t say it again,’ you continue. You smile in that cutting way. ‘But would you like me to apologise? Koga.’

He starts a little when you say his name. His expression hardens and he bats your hands away. Look at what you’ve done. Look at what you’ve done.

Look –

‘Fuck no.’

– the stupidest boy you’ve ever met.

He hauls you forward for a bruising kiss.

( _I love you. I’ve loved you for the past year_.)

You are cruel, but he will always give chase.

**Author's Note:**

> Title and summary adapted from works by Nicole Krauss.


End file.
